Darn Pickles!
by takingnames15
Summary: Where in Finn goes on a pickle run for a pregnant Rachel, Puck makes an appearance, Finn hates couches and mood swings are crazy. Fluffy Future Finchel that's rated T because Puck is in it, and that fact alone deserves a T. Oneshot. R and R


**Just a oneshot full of Finn thoughts and some ooey-gooey Finchel fluff. Enjoy!**

Hey Rach, do you know where the pickles are?" Finn Hudson called up the stairs. The word pickles was starting to sound funny, like any word if you say it enough times. In fact for the past eight months his wife's favorite word was pickles..or maybe it was prepared, he really wasn't sure.

"We don't have any remember?" he heard her call back. They didn't have any pickles? No wonder she was in a bad mood all morning. He always knew when she was in a bad mood. Every morning he'd roll over and kiss her good morning, if she kissed back for a few seconds it was going to be a good day for her, and if she pulled back quickly the day was going to suck. He figured he should go get some to try and get on her good side. He opened the door under the counter and rummaged around for his keys.

"Rach, I can't find my keys?" he called up the stairs, yet again. He braced himself for what he knew was coming. She was pregnant, in a bad mood and they didn't have any pickles. Why didn't they have any pickles?

"You left them on the couch." She called back. The couch? That was vague. They had three couches and he knew from experience he'd have to dig under the cushions to find them. Was it worth asking her which couch so he didn't have to dig through all three? He doubted it, but called up to her again anyways.

"Which one?" he said, wincing. He was prepared for the worst. Hitting a mailman was scary. Getting framed for drug use was scary. The lady with the cats from the public library was scary. None of these things however could put a dent in his hormonal wife. The mailman had been fine, so he was okay (except for needing to pay some money) The drug thing? He'd probably get off with a warning. The lady with the cats? What could she do to him? Rachel however could give him a tongue lashing that would scare him into next week.

"The one you're going to sleep on tonight!" she answered. Oh god, anything but that! The couch? The couch was for spoiled dogs and sleepovers in most houses, but in his house the couch was were he slept whenever Rachel got moody. He dug under the cushion and found his keys. He left the house calling a goodbye to his wife and then back out of the driveway. If he bought enough pickles maybe she'd be so happy she'd revoke his sentence for good behavior.

When he reached the store, he went straight to aisle 12, it was the pickle aisle and he knew it. He grabbed 4 jars of the kind Rachel declared were "Better then watching _Funny Girl _all day" and went to check out.

"Finn Hudson" he looked up at the sound of his name and saw Noah Puckerman's smirk as he held up a jar of pickles. "I'm sorry sir but you can't just buy the pickle aisle, we have other customers" he joked.

"Puck? What are you doing here?" he asked, surprised to see his old teammate. Not much about him and changed. He couldn't tell if he had his mohawk still though, because his cashiers hat was on backwards and he was wearing it so lose he went down to his eyebrows.

"Ringing up an idiots pickles" he shrugged, scanning the second jar. "What are these for anyway? Are you going to some sort of girly picnic or something, cause you know all the ladies are trying to "watch their figures" and won't eat anything besides salad."

"Not all girls, these are all for Rachel." he said. A girl picnic? He didn't go on girly picnics. He was a twenty-four year old man. He did manly things like... okay maybe he wasn't so manly. Singing to his wife's stomach was his new favorite thing to do, but he wasn't about to tell Puck that.

"You don't mean the crazy chick from high school do you?" he asked. "I though she was going to leave Lima and become a star or something. I mean if I got outta here on a football scholarship for a while and I didn't even plan on leaving, she's gotta at least be singing at some dumpy restaurant in Queens."

"She's not that bad Puck!" he defended. Sure she could sometimes be a little...okay crazy, but most of the time she was totally not crazy. Except for lately, because he'd been dumb enough to get her pregnant.

"Not that bad?" he scoffed. "I didn't say she was bad. In fact she was way to goody-goody for Puckasaurus. I said she was crazy! Big difference dude! She's also annoying! I mean blah,blah,blah,blah,blah"

"She's not crazy either most of the time. She's just pregnant and all pregnant women are crazy! It's like all the hormones and stuff." he said. What did Puck have against his poor wife? Granted he was only teasing but still. He supposed Puck teased everyone like that, well he did in high school when he'd seen him last. Then, like he said, he'd gotten some scholarship and hadn't heard anything about him since.

"Wait, let me get this straight. You're here buying our pickle aisle for our crazy high school sweetheart who decided to stay in Lima, despite everything she went on about in high school for hours, because you knocked her up?"

"I didn't "knock her up" Puck, "knocked up" is when a girl is pregnant with some random dude, I "got her pregnant" meaning that I'm not some random guy, I'm her husband and I fully intended to do it!" he countered. He felt smart. He'd heard Rachel lecture some guy on the whole issue.

"I thought you said that she didn't want kids untill she was twenty-five?" Puck countered. Dang it he was right! How did he know that him and his wife were twenty-four... oh wait, they were the same age. Sometimes he was so dumb!

"Okay, maybe I didn't 100% mean to, but it doesn't matter either way because we are _married_. So either way my wife is not "knocked up." He was a genius. He'd found his way around that question but was ready to leave in case Puck shot him something he couldn't answer. "Can I have my pickles now, Rach wants them ASAP." Puck handed him a bag and Finn swiped his credit card.

"Whatever Hudson, by the way, do you even know what ASAP means?" Finn left in a hurry. He knew that this would happen! He was he supposed to know what that meant? Rachel always used it to describe pickles though, so he figured he used it right.

"I brought pickles!" he called up the stairs as soon as we walked back into the house. He leaned against the wall, watching his wife waddle down the stairs as quick as she could, holding up a pickle jar with the lid popped off. When she finally made it down the stairs, Finn smiled and leaned in for a kiss. He ended up looking stupid when she grabbed the pickle jar and kissed it instead, before popping one in her mouth and smiling in satisfaction. She chewed as she looked at him, then swallowed. He looked at her sadly.

"Finn, right now it's pickle time, followed by singing time, followed by the reprise of pickle time, followed by laundry, followed by dusting, followed by the reprise of the reprise of pickle time. Once that is over, I think I can squeeze in cuddle time right before we go to bed. He grinned. Yes! No couch for him!

Finn finished his Saturday doing a few household chores, watching some football and cleaning out empty pickle jars that Rachel asked him to save for some reason. He thought it hand something to do with storing stuff, but wasn't sure. Finally at nine 'o clock, Rachel came in to their room. Finn smiled at patted the bed next to him. She plopped down and rolled over to face him.

"That's my shirt." she said flatly looking at him.

"What?" he asked.

"That's my shirt, you gave it to me two years ago when I lost my pajamas." she explained.

"I let you borrow it babe, but we can share" he joked.

"No, we can't Finn Christopher Hudson and that isn't funny!" Oh god. Not now, it's cuddle time! The best time of the day, including football time, snack time AND lunch time at work.

"I'm sorry babe, I'll take it off" he said.

"I don't care about the shirt, I care that you made fun of me! I'm sick of you for night, go sleep on the couch!" she rolled over and crossed her arms just under her chin, which was probably the only place she could 7-months pregnant.

"Please Rach, not the couch!" he begged.

"Yes, the couch!" she said stubbornly. He miserable grabbed his pillow and a blanket and plopped down on the large couch, well to most people, if he lie down on it his feet hung over the edge, but if you took a few pillows off, three people could lie on it. He couldn't wait untill the baby came. Sure they'd have sleepless nights for a long few months, but at least he'd be not sleeping somewhere besides the couch. He tried to get comfortable, gave up, and just started at the ceiling.

The clock read eleven when a light came on and a small figure came down the stairs, the lights went off again and the figure crawled in next to him. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close as he could with her enlarged stomach as she snuggled into his chest.

"I love you Finn" she whispered.

"I love you too Rach" he smiled and closed his eyes. As miserable as it was when she would freak out at him, he was sure that moments like this, and the baby of course, made it all worth it.

**Review, Review, Review. I've been getting serious writers block and would love a little motivation. :)**


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